


a bakery on the coast

by deducingontheroof



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Escape, Genderqueer Semi, M/M, Prison, Trans Male Shirabu, genderfluid goshiki, light gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 05:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11983398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deducingontheroof/pseuds/deducingontheroof
Summary: This wasn’t the first time Kenjirou was imprisoned. Not even close.It was, however, the first time he had to escape in order to save someone else.





	a bakery on the coast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FairyLights101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyLights101/gifts).



> hey sky you hoe i love you, happy birthday <3

This wasn’t the first time Kenjirou was imprisoned. Not even close.

It was, however, the first time he had to escape in order to save someone else.

His nails dug into his palms as he watched the guards drag Tsutomu away.

“Where are you taking them?” he demanded, slamming his fist against the bars.

There was no response, of course. He wasn’t expecting one.

Hitting the bars again, he cursed, feeling frustrated tears forming in his eyes.

**Weak.**

He looked around the tiny cell for the hundredth time. If he hadn’t been able to escape after seven years, he doubted anything would change today.

But he had to try.

The bars were solidly implanted in concrete, impossible to shift. The window was small, but the bars had shifted. With a bit of time, he could get through them.

He didn’t have time.

His eyes fell on the drain in the center of the room. It probably led to some sort of sewer, or maintenance tunnel. The grate had clearly been added after the initial construction of the cell, judging by the chipped concrete and mismatched sizes. It would be possible to move.

Kenjirou didn’t hesitate, wrapping his fingers around the grate and tugging. The metal bit cruelly against his fingers as he strained, and he could feel the skin tearing. 

He was so close. The grate had shifted up a few centimetres. Blood dripped onto the floor, which Kenjirou ignored. He couldn’t give up now.

With one more sharp tug, the grate popped out of place, clanging loudly against the concrete.

Kenjirou peered into the darkness. He didn’t know what was at the bottom, or even how far the drop was. It terrified him, the prospect of dropping into nothingness.

But he had to save Tsutomu. He wouldn’t fail them again.

Taking a deep breath, he jumped.

~

When Kenjirou regained consciousness, the first thing he felt was an excrutiating pain in his wrist. The second was the slimy earth against his face. He scrambled up, wiping at it with disgust.

Why did he pass out? And how long was he out for?

It could already be too late. Tsutomu could already be-

No, he refused to believe that. It was probably only a few minutes.

His wrist twanged again, reminding him of the pain, and he cursed, poking it experimentally. 

It hurt.

He tried to move it, but hissed at the jolt of pain. It was definitely fractured, if not cleanly broken.

Fuck.

It was agony, but he had to keep moving. Every minute wasted was a minute closer to losing Tsutomu for good.

He started moving through the dark tunnels, keeping his good hang against the wall.

It was definitely some kind of disused sewer. He could vaguely make out parts that had been blocked off, and even heard another set of footsteps far in the distance.

He didn’t like it, but heading for the footsteps would be his best chance. He could spend years lost in the sewers, and Tsutomu didn’t have years.

The footsteps grew louder, but Kenjirou couldn’t tell if he was getting closer to them, or if they were getting closer to him.

He rounded a corner, and suddenly, the tunnels were lit. He crouched down to examine the light source; someone had clearly painted rocks with a luminescent paint. He had no idea why, but it was effective. He could see.

And there was a door.

Kenjirou tried the handle; it was unlocked, which was suspicious. Maybe whoever used it last forgot to lock it, or maybe it was a trap.

He opened it, expecting it be immediately shot. To his surprise, the room on the other side was empty, save a rusting ladder.

“This must be the prison’s sewer access,” he murmured, staring up. He could see another door at the top of the ladder. 

He was getting close, he could feel it. Tsutomu was close now.

He placed a hand on the ladder, then stopped. How the fuck was he going to climb this with a broken hand?

He experimentally hooked his elbow around the rung. It would work. He would be considerably slower than normal, but it would work.

Kenjirou started climbing.

~

He was barely a meter from the top when the door opened. Pressing himself close to the ladder and holding his breath, he waited. Maybe they wouldn’t see him.

There was a thump, and someone fell off the platform. Kenjirou didn’t have time to think. He reached out with his good hand, hooking his knees around a rung, and grabbed Tsutomu’s wrist. He winced as their body slammed into the ladder.

The door slammed shut, and the rough sound of the lock echoed throughout the chamber. Kenjirou grunted at the effort of keeping Tsutomu from falling.

“Tsutomu, wake up,” he pleaded, straining. His knees were screaming, and the sweat on his palm was making his grip slip.

Tsutomu groaned quietly, stirring. 

“Kenjirou?” they asked hoarsely. As their eyes flew open, they started panicking, swinging back and forth.

“Grab the ladder, Tsutomu! I can’t hold on!” Kenjirou yelled.

Tsutomu fumbled for the ladder, but their hands were blistered and burned. They cried out as they grabbed the ladder, and couldn’t hold on.

“I can’t, Kenjirou!” they cried. Their face was caked with blood and grime, but Kenjirou could still see their hopeless expression.

“Don’t you dare let go, Tsutomu. I can’t do this without you,” Kenjirou warned desperately.

“I’m dead already, Kenjirou,” Tsutomu smiled sadly, tears tracking down their face. “You can live, but only if you let me go.”

“Never,” Kenjirou said, feeling his own tears start, “Tsutomu, I love you. I can’t do this without you, nor do I want to.”

“You have to,” they insisted, “Live for me, Kencchi. Do what I never could. Go to the coast, and open our bakery.”

“Not without you,” Kenjirou repeated.

“I’m finished.” Tsutomu placed a warped hand on top of his. “Live for me, Shirabu Kenjirou.”

Tsutomu pried Kenjirou’s unwilling fingers from their wrist, and with one last “I love you,” they fell.

And Kenjirou screamed.

~

“Shirabu.”

Kenjirou met sier gaze with empty eyes and a blank look.

“What do you need, Semi?”

“Are you okay?” Semi asked, “You haven’t been the same since-”

“Of course I’m not fucking okay,” he snarled, “I should be dead. They should have lived.”

“It isn’t your fault,” sie reassured, “You couldn’t have saved them.”

“I could have.”

Kenjirou blinked away tears, and returned to the pamphlets he had been leafing through; advertisements for commercial lots on the coast.

“I’ll go with you. You don’t have to do this alone, Kenjirou.” Semi laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’ll never forget them. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up on tumblr!!](https://semishiraten.tumblr.com)


End file.
